


And a Ham Sandwich

by vanillafluffy



Category: The Devil All the Time (2020)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Fix-It, happier ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:26:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26846620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillafluffy/pseuds/vanillafluffy
Summary: "The Devil All the Time" disappointed me. I expected a dark comedy with rednecks. Instead, it was two hours of people being bullies and assholes to each other. So here's something a little less lugubrious.Arvin, after his nap in the van at the end....
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12
Collections: Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2020





	And a Ham Sandwich

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cozy_coffee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cozy_coffee/gifts).



“Fuck,” somebody says loudly, and Arvin stirs. The last he recalls, it was afternoon. Now, it’s full dark outside. He’s in a van…the man in the driver’s seat is a long-haired hippie-looking fellow, a few years older than he is. Then memory catches up and Arvin remembers why he’s there…the pastor, the sheriff, those perverts…. He shudders.

The van’s driver has pulled over to the side of the road and he’s squinting at a map under the feeble wattage of the overhead light. He’s muttering to himself. Arvin wonders if they’re lost. He is, for sure--in every sense of the word. “What’s going on?” he asks.

“Goddamn Great Lakes,” the guy says, lowering his map to look at him, pouting. “I was gonna cross over to Canada, but there all those damn lakes, man!”

Arvin always liked geography class. He knows he’s only seen the tiniest corner of the world, but there are places out there with exotic-sounding names, like Tierra del Fuego and Waikiki. “Try Wisconsin,” he suggests. “Mind if I take a leak?” He leaves the door open when he gets out, and stands in the shadow of the van to relieve himself. Climbing back in, he asks, “How long was I out?”

“Ages. It’s about…four a.m. You sure were sawing wood. I stopped for dinner and you didn’t even budge. There’s half a ham sandwich left, if you want it.”

Incredible that he could sleep, with all the sins on his conscience. ‘Thou shalt not kill’ is one of the Ten Commandments--but that preacher was responsible for Lenore dying…the perverts were trying to kill him, and the sheriff--was he trying to get revenge for his sister or just doing his job? Hard to say. Still, he’s dead, and Arvin killed him. He’ll have to account for that on Judgement Day.

“Can you drive for a while?” his companion asks him, yawning. “I’m feeling a mite fatigued.” They switch places, and Arvin figures out where they are and which way they need to go. “Great,” the van’s owner says, reclining the seat. “We’ll sneak over the border and be living on poutine and moose jerky. I’d rather learn to speak French than Vietnamese.”

Jerky he’s familiar with--he’s had pemmican enough times. “What’s a poutine?”

“I don’t know, exactly,” the hippie admits. “Back home, we had a neighbor lady from Canada, and she was always talking about it.”

Arvin remembers a little of the French Lenore had tried to share with him--it was her favorite class-- “Maybe it’s some fancy kind of chicken?” he guesses. The word for ‘chicken’ was something like ‘poullet’, he knows. Maybe ‘poutine’ is ‘tiny chicken’?

His long nap has calmed him; the day’s adrenaline has washed away so he can think clearly now. Canada is a fine idea. After all, the Army is part of the government, and law enforcement is going to be looking for him, so they’d catch up with him, even if he enlisted. You don’t just kill four people and walk away whistling a merry tune.

What he’ll do when he gets to Canada, he can’t imagine. It’ll be strange, different from Knockemstiff, a whole new world. Maybe he’ll find some Canadian farmer and hire on. It’s what he knows best. Maybe he’ll ride the rails like a hobo, or go off and build himself a cabin in the woods.

The possibilities are interesting. Hell, if nothing else, he wants to see this hippie sneaking through somebody’s cow pasture trying to cross the border. Has he ever even seen a cow that wasn't on a milk carton? That should be good for a laugh. Arvin smiles tentatively. After everything he’s been through, there are still sparks of light in the darkness.

A fresh start. Leave his past in the past. No more fighting and no more killing, he hopes, and reaches for the ham sandwich.

Behind him, the light of a new day inches over the horizon.

*


End file.
